Testing Times
by HedwigsTalons
Summary: Preparations are under way to get International Rescue ready to start operations. Alan's position on the team is thrown into question - can he earn his place and the respect of his family?
1. Chapter 1

Testing Times

_A/N – This is my first attempt with the Tracy family so apologies if the characters are a little rough around the edges. I've set this before International Rescue properly starts but after the family have moved to Tracy Island to start building their dream. I can lay no claim to any of the Thunderbirds characters._

xoxoxox

Jeff Tracy sat at his desk, elbows on the hard surface with his fingers steepled together in front of him. His brow was furrowed in deep thought as he considered the best course of action. The catalyst for his concern was a letter placed on the desk in front of him. The envelope was addressed to Alan and still sealed but that didn't mean Jeff was ignorant of the contents, he had far too many old contacts who had been willing to email and congratulate him on his son's achievement before the physical letter of confirmation had arrived. Jeff took a deep breath and spoke in the general direction of his wrist which was sporting one of the communicator watches designed by his middle son, John.

"Jeff calling Alan", he paused while the younger man accepted the call, "Come to the study".

He disconnected the call quickly and waited for his youngest son to appear. It didn't take many minutes before there was a firm knock at the door. A summons to the study was generally not a pleasant experience and the young man that entered had a demeanour that was less than confident.

"Sit down Alan".

Alan sat on the opposite side of the desk and looked is father in the eye, wondering what indiscretion had warranted a summons. His conscious was for once clear but that didn't stop a feeling of guilt creeping over him.

"A letter arrived for you in the last post run".

In the age of modern electronic communications a physical letter was a rarity and the guilt Alan was feeling was replaced by curiosity. He looked at the envelope indicated by his father and swallowed. The envelope bore the stamp of the prestigious Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He thought back to the application his father had suggest he make several months earlier when his elder brother, Gordon, had been recovering from a hydrofoil accident and it looked like the plans for launching International Rescue would have to be delayed. Now, with the organisation nearly ready to commence operations, the idea of heading off to university seemed laughable. Still, he mused, it would be interesting to see the response. He reached across, picked up the envelope, and opened it.

_Dear Mr Tracy,_

_We are delighted to offer you a place on the study programme within the School of Aeronautics and Astronautics, Faculty of Engineering..._

The letter continued giving details of how to accept the place and information on term dates.

Alan put it down and let out an inaudible sign of relief. For once it looked like the trip to the study would be over quickly. He smiled and his usual light attitude returned.

"Well it's nice to know they think I'm up to the course. I'll head back to my room and send a response declining their offer. I can't wait to see Virgil's face, he never thought I'd make the grade".

Jeff's next comment stilled the younger man and wiped all traces of relief off Alan's face.

"I think you should accept the place"

"But I can't. International Rescue will be ready to start in a couple more months and I can't help out if I'm at MIT."

"I'm not sure you are ready for International Rescue. Maybe after some time at college you will be so for now I think you should accept the offer."

Alan could feel the blood beginning to pound in his ears as his temper rose. He felt sick at what his father was saying. Sick at the implication that he wasn't good enough to join his father's new venture despite giving up everything in his old life and committing wholeheartedly to supporting his father's dream. He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking the chair over. Jeff Tracy winced slightly at the sound of the chair legs scuffing the polished floor but he maintained eye contact with his son as Alan released his emotions in an angry tirade.

"Is that what you think? That I'm not good enough? I have done everything you have asked of me and more. I could be out there" he flung his arm out towards the panoramic window and it's view of the vast Pacific Ocean "in the real world. I could be racing still. I've followed your orders to the letter, even staying out of the media after winning the World Championship. Instead I packed it all in to be part of your dream and now you tell me I'm not welcome!"

Jeff never dropped his gaze as Alan poured out his frustrations. He waited until Alan stopped, his cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. Jeff Tracy was not a man who accepted disobedience from his sons and Alan had most definitely crossed a line.

After pausing a moment to ensure that Alan really had finished saying his piece Jeff dismissed his son with a single, barely audible sentence. "Go to your room and consider your behaviour."

Alan turned stiffly around and strode to the door without a further word. Jeff listened to the footsteps retreating towards the accommodation quarters indicating that his son had more sense than to disobey his final command. He picked up the letter, left behind on the desk by Alan, that had provided the prompt for the difficult conversation and read the full contents. Even in his present mood he couldn't help but feel a touch of paternal pride that his son, despite not having devoted much time to study over the previous years, had managed to achieve a placement at one of the most prestigious institutions in the world. Academically the two youngest Tracys had always been overshadowed but the three elder siblings who had excelled in their chosen fields. This letter was proof that there was more to Alan than a hot-headed adrenalin junkie.

It was this final thought that made Jeff reconsider his viewpoint. If Alan had always been overshadowed and not had the chance to demonstrate his talent, what other parts of his character had been misjudged? He settled down to some deep thinking before calling Brains through to the study. The two men remained closeted in the room in deep discussion until lunch time.

xoxoxox

Lunch was a quiet affair. Alan's place at the table was conspicuously empty. When John had offered to run and find him but been prevented from doing so by their father the remaining four Tracy siblings shared an ominous glance at each other. Living in close quarters on the island meant that rumours travelled quickly and tensions were keenly felt. It looked like the rumour that Alan had shouted at their father was true and none of the other brothers wanted to risk putting their head above the parapet. The glances were redoubled when their father announced towards end of the meal that he wanted the four brothers to join him in the study once they had finished their dessert. As the brothers filed down the corridor in a group the nervous anticipation filled the air around them like static electricity.

Scott, as eldest, was given the dubious honour of knocking on the study door. The brothers filed in to find their father already sitting behind the desk with four chairs arranged in front of him. They sat in silence and waited for whatever announcement their father wanted to make. They didn't have long to wait.

"I've called you here regarding Alan. I have had my concerns regarding his...suitability...to be part of International Rescue. Concerns that his behaviour today has done little to dispel. However, International Rescue is about more than the feelings of one individual and you, as the field operatives, would be the ones that need most confidence in his abilities."

The brothers shifted in their seats uncomfortably, unhappy with the direction the meeting was taking. Their father continued.

"I cannot deny that his skills would be an asset to the organisation. Starting operations with just five was always going to be challenging, one fewer would be even harder. However, it's his character that is giving me most concern. I have spoken in depth with Brains regarding the psychological profiling he has undertaken but I also want to hear your own opinions."

Scott looked across at his bothers and took a deep breath. As de facto leader the unpleasant role of spokesman fell to him.

"Sir, none of us can dispute that Alan is incredibly capable, especially at those tasks he enjoys…." Scott tailed off uncomfortably.

"But..." his father prompted.

"But sometimes he gets carried away. He doesn't always stop and think how his actions might affect others."

Jeff Tracy nodded. He knew that his sons were loyal to each other and it would have taken a lot for Scott to break that united front. However, they had been brought up to be honest and this was one of those situations where total honesty was required.

"I have had similar concerns myself."

"That doesn't me we don't want to work with him though" Scott carried on in a rush, "I think I speak for all of us when I say that I think International Rescue needs him. You said yourself that starting with just four would be difficult and he has skills that would make him a valuable asset. When it comes to anything on four wheels he puts the rest of us to shame. If you cut Alan out now I think you would lose him from International Rescue forever and I'd rather have him on board now, while we still have time for training, than risk losing him completely. He is our brother and we all vowed to join this together."

Jeff could see the sense in his son's words. Alan could be stubborn and impetuous. If he felt rejected he might be lost forever.

"Which is why Brains and I have been designing a training exercise. One that is focussed on Alan taking the lead rather and using initiative rather than following orders". Scott looked decidedly unhappy at the idea of being bossed around by his youngest brother until his father explained further. "There may be occasions when Alan is out of contact with the team and has to operate under his own direction. Rescues where you, Scott, are not available to give him direction. The scenario we have in mind requires only Virgil to be present, the rest of us need only be on hand in case anything goes awry. I'll call Brains in to explain further. If you are not comfortable with the scenario, Virgil, I will rethink the training exercise but I hope you will consent to take part."

Virgil felt uncomfortable. If their father was seeking his consent then there must be a potential for danger. He shared puzzled looks with his brothers who could only shrug their shoulders in return while their father called through to their resident scientist, doctor and inventor; Brains. The brothers looked even more puzzled when Brain appeared carrying a small bundle of material, a heavy lump hammer from the workshop and a small battery pack. They waited for an explanation. Jeff turned his attention predominantly to Virgil.

"Brains has been working on a new invention. One that will allow us to test Alan in a scenario outside of his comfort zone while at the same time ensuring Virgil's safety. While it could technically be any one of you taking part alongside Alan we felt that you, Virgil, would be most likely to be found in this particular set up and would also be least likely to interfere in however Alan chooses to deal with it. Some of your brothers might find it difficult to restrain themselves from giving unsolicited advice" This last comment was accompanied by a pointed look at Scott.

"So what do you have planned?" Virgil asked. "You have said you won't go ahead if I'm not comfortable but you haven't given me any indication of what you plan to do."

"You said the other day that the gears had been stripped in one of the Mole's side traction units?"

"Yes" said Virgil, still at a loss.

"I would like you and Alan to remove the unit to replace the gears but drop it so your legs are trapped".

Virgil's eyes widened. His father has spoken as those all he had been asked to do was stub his toe, not potentially lose his legs.

"But that traction unit has got to weigh about two tonnes!" he exclaimed.

"2038 kilogrammes to be precise" John chipped in helpfully. Virgil just glared.

"You seriously want me to drop two tonnes of metal onto my legs? No way. I'm not letting Alan practice his first aid on my mangled legs and I'm not going to risk damaging the Mole either." Virgil sat back and folded his arms.

"The scenario is to see how Alan copes in an extraction type situation rather than a medical emergency. There is a new side unit for the Mole available so the one with the stripped gears can go to scrap if it is unsalvageable. I'll leave it to Brain here to explain how your legs will be protected".

"T-t-thank you, Mr T-t-tracy" the young engineer stammered. "You will be wearing these Virgil."

He handed Virgil the bundle of material. Virgil unrolled it to reveal what looked suspiciously like a pair of surgical stockings. The material was slightly stretchy and had an odd waxy feel.

"I have been experimenting with n-n-non-Newtonian fluids. I h-h-had been hoping to c-c-create a light-w-w-weight cast material for broken bones but the m-m-material's activation method is impractical".

"Non-Newtonian fluids?" John queried. "You mean like cornflour gloop"

The boys thought back to their early childhood science lessons. Non-Newtonian fluids didn't behave as expected when forces were applied. In the case of cornflour mixed with water the resultant slurry looked like any other liquid. If you moved your fingers through it very slowly it felt like any other liquid but if you were more forceful and tried to move your hand quickly the slurry would solidify until the force was released.

"Indeed. The coating on the m-m-material has n-n-non-Newtonian properties. If it encounters sufficient force the whole piece of m-m-material solidifies into and strong and rigid cast. Unlike cornflour, ah, gloop, the material stays rigid even when the force is removed. The m-m-material is deactivated by ap-p-p-lication of a small electric current. I have been hoping to d-d-discover another activation method so that the m-m-material can have a m-m-medical application but so far it seems you j-j-just have to hit it." Brains sighed at the fact that his marvellous scientific breakthrough relied on such an unscientific action to work.

Their father continued the explanation. "Brains has been demonstrating his invention to me this morning. The idea is that Virgil will be wearing the sleeves under his overalls to protect his legs. When the Mole's traction unit is dropped the force of the impact will turn the sleeves into a rigid armour that will protect your legs leaving you entirely uninjured. The focus of the task for Alan will be to safely remove the Mole unit and evacuate you from from the area."

"Is it really necessary to drop the unit? Can't we just set it up slowly so we don't risk damage to the equipment"

Jeff was not surprised that Virgil had just as much concern for the equipment as for himself. "Unfortunately the material behaves in a non-Newtonian manner in more then one way. Just like with the cornflour, if the forces are too gentle or too slow the material will not harden. I'm afraid it's all or nothing".

"And what if Alan doesn't want to free me because he is worried about making my 'injury' worse?"

"There will also be a simulated fire which will add some urgency to the task. Your brothers and I will be on hand in case we are needed. Alan will not be aware of this."

Virgil nodded his understanding but still didn't look inclined to agree with the set up.

"Perhaps a d-d-demonstration of the sleeves would be beneficial?" Brain suggested.

Jeff Tracy nodded and gestured to Virgil to pass the sleeves back to him. He stood up, placed one hand inside the tube of material and passed the lump hammer to Virgil with the other.

"I wouldn't ask you to do something I wasn't prepared to do myself" Jeff said while placing his sleeved hand on the desk. "Now I want you to hit my hand as hard as you can."

Virgil looked apprehensive as he raised the hammer. He paused with his arm raised and looked his father in the eye, the doubt on his face evident for all to see. Jeff held his son's gaze and gave a small nod of assent. Virgil looked back down at the hand on the desk, made sure his aim was true, then swung the hammer down with enough force to pulverise the fragile limb in front of him.

The three brothers still seated all flinched as the hammer fell, fully expecting to hear a scream of pain. Instead the only sound was a quiet thud followed by an exclamation of surprise from Virgil as the hammer bounced up, nearly causing him to lose his grip on the handle.

Jeff Tracy raised his hand and smiled at his sons. The sleeve was now a solid shell encasing his hand and arm like a badly fitting mitten. Virgil reached out for it, dumbstruck, and examined his father's newly acquired armour. Brains stepped forwards with the battery pack and applied two terminals to the sleeve which instantly returned to its floppy material state. Jeff removed his hand from the sleeve and flexed his fingers to prove that everything was still working normally.

"Now Virgil, how about you try?" his father asked.

"Can I hit you?" Scott asked.

Virgil shook his head. "Not you. Gordon".

The youngest Tracy present started in surprise. "You want _me _to be the one that hits you? Seriously?"

"Yes. You can put those swimmer's arms to good use. Anyway, Scott prefers his tools to be jet propelled and laser guided. At least you aren't likely to miss with something so low-tech and I'm not convinced John knows which end of a hammer to hold."

There were twin exclamations of indignation from Scott and John as they registered the insults against them. Gordon just smirked. Virgil tried to keep his feelings light but it was with some trepidation that he pulled on a sleeve and placed his hand on the desk.

"You might want to put your wrist through the loop" he said to Gordon, indicating the leather strap threaded through the handle of the hammer. "There was a bit of a rebound when I tried and we don't want the hammer to go flying."

Gordon nodded, put his hand through the strap and raised the hammer to strike. Virgil closed his eyes. He felt the air currents move as the strong arm of his brother sped on its downward trajectory then felt...nothing.

Virgil cautiously opened his eyes. Gordon was rubbing his hand where the rebound of the hammer had indeed taken him by surprise. Virgil raised his hand up and found it was completely fixed in the position it had been on the desk. The material, though incredibly light and thin, was absolutely inflexible. He took a moment to marvel at the ingenious invention before grinning at his brothers. The crowded round him compared the second sleeve in its still floppy state to the rigid one now encasing Virgil's arm. Brains stepped forwards and freed Virgil with a quick application of the battery pack.

The atmosphere in the room, in contrast to the oppressive and moody feel of earlier, was now light and jubilant. The younger Tracys took it in turns to hit and release each other and John, contrary to Virgil's assertion, demonstrated that he did indeed know the correct way to hold a hammer. He decided it was time to get some revenge for the earlier insult.

"There is a major problem with this whole plan though" he mused.

The other's in the room turned to stare at him, curious as to was flaw had been overlooked. Jeff looked at John, a look of concern creeping into his eyes. "What is it son?"

"Well." John kept is voice level and deadly serious, "Brains' invention works so well that the wearer doesn't feel a thing".

The others nodded.

"Meaning Virgil will have to act as though two tonnes of solid machine have just fallen on him to make it seem realistic" the deadpan John continued.

It was Scott's turn to smirk as he realised where this is going.

"Meaning it's doomed to fail because we all know Virgil here couldn't act his way out of a paper bag. He doesn't have the imagination."

There was a roar of annoyance as Virgil launched himself towards John only to find himself held back by a grinning Scott.

"That's it little bro" he laughed "that's the sort of theatrics we need. How about you practice a scream now?"

"That's enough, boys" their father warned. "Everyone back to your seats".

The four junior Tracys resumed their seats and calm returned.

"So Virgil, will you do it?" Jeff asked.

Virgil nodded and quickly reminded everyone of why they had been called together in the first place. "If you think Alan needs to prove himself, and this is how you want to do it, then I'll go along with your plan. I can't deny I'm not looking forward to deceiving him but I do have confidence in Brains' invention".

Jeff Tracy let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Virgil. I hope, after the event, we can all look back on this as just another training exercise. I don't like putting you in this position but at the same time I need to be sure that I'm not putting anyone into danger by sending out a team that is not operating at full strength. This is an opportunity for Alan to demonstrate talents that I hope are hidden rather than absent".

Jeff Tracy dismissed his sons with the exception of Virgil and John. More planning was needed if the scenario was to realistic and they and Brains disappeared into Brains' workshop for the rest of the afternoon to make the arrangements.

Dinner was as quiet as lunch. Alan's chair was still ominously empty.

xoxoxox

Alan made his reappearance at breakfast the next morning. He greeted his brothers but they noticed that the accompanying smile never reached his eyes. The few words he did exchange with them dried up entirely when their father arrived at the table.

"Good morning. We have got a busy day ahead. I want to run some communications tests so I'll be needing you with me John. Gordon, Scott, I'll need you too. We will be checking the comms link from Thunderbird 4. We will be tied up for most of the morning I'm afraid."

Three of the Tracy brothers exchanged a look and a fourth gave a barely perceptible nod to confirm that the plan was being put into action without delay. Alan was oblivious to the silent exchange, his head down and avoiding eye contact while finishing his breakfast.

"Will you need me?" Virgil asked casually.

"No. I'm sure there are plenty of other jobs that need your skills."

"Great. I'd like to take a look at the Mole. She took a bit of abuse drilling a ventilation tunnel last week and needs some repairs."

"Sure. If you need help Alan can work with you. The tests we will be doing will need us to shut down the comms systems at points so don't worry if we drop out of contact."

Alan looked as though the last thing he wanted to be doing was helping out in the workshop but he mumbled his assent to the plan. He reasoned that working with Virgil would keep him out the way of their father. He also felt a pang of guilt because the damage to the Mole was his fault. Ever impatient and wanting to test how quickly the mighty drill could go he had overstrained the machine against the advice of his brother. Virgil had been understandably annoyed but not told their father the reason why one of their precious tools was out of action was because his youngest brother was pining for the race track and had gunned the engine.

Breakfast finished and the Tracys wandered off to their respective tasks, Virgil taking a detour to his rooms to slide on the protective sleeves before heading down to the workshop.

Virgil and Alan, clad in matching overalls, worked in companionable silence. Alan for once felt glad that he was partnered with the quiet engineer rather than with the more chatty Gordon. Virgil was not one to pry and Alan was relieved not to be deflecting questions about has absence the day before. He vowed to follow Virgil's instructions to the letter. Defiance against their father would not earn him a place in International Rescue, only hard work and dedication. Despite insinuating the previous day that he had sacrificed his life in the outside world to follow his father's dream the reality was that Alan had willingly entered in to the enterprise and the thought he might not be permitted to be a part of it was devastating. He had spent most of the previous day following his father's direction to 'think about his behaviour' and made a vow to himself to knuckle down prove his father wrong.

"Earth to Alan" Virgil's voice cut across his brooding

"Huh"

"You finished loosening that bolt two minutes ago. You seem a bit distracted. Are you ok?"

"Erm, yeah, I'm fine. Just got a lot to think about."

"Well it's time to wake up. The unit is ready to be lifted clear and I can't do that if you are stood in the way.

Alan obligingly moved to one side while Virgil attached a set of electromagnetic clamps to the damaged section. The clamps were connected to a hoist that could be moved around the entire workshop on a set of tracks attached to the roof. The whole system allowed heavy weights to be moved into position with ease and had proved to be invaluable in the initial build and ongoing maintenance of the machines. Machines which were currently being used to assist with the building of the island base but would soon form the fleet of rescue vehicles at their disposal.

Virgil looked at his watch and assured himself that everything was running to schedule. John, rather than running communications tests, should be monitoring the workshop. Scott and Gordon would be on hand to free him if Alan failed in his task. Their father would be keeping a close watch on everything.

Virgil guided the unit until it was situated above a clear patch of floor. He sent Alan on an errand to the far end of the workshop on the pretext of getting some different tools then carefully sat on the floor with his legs straight out. Once he was sure that only those parts of him covered by the sleeves were in the impact zone did he send the signal through to those controlling proceedings remotely. He braced for impact and prepared to let out a scream.

The power to the workshop cut out plunging the cavernous space into darkness. At the same time the electromagnetic clamps released and sent the traction unit crashing to the floor. The scream that tore through the air was real.

The sleeve on his left leg behaved exactly as it had in all the experiments. The sleeve on his right seemed to have solidified then cracked across his shin leaving him acutely aware of the pressure bearing down on him. Thankfully the intact left cast seemed to be supporting most of the weight of the traction unit. Virgil took some deep breaths, lay as still as he could, and tried to block out the pain. Once the initial shock, and pain, had subsided he was able to analyse the situation and it wasn't good. The way the unit was currently balanced his unprotected shin was not bearing much of the load but if the unit was moved too much in the wrong direction it could easily crush and break the trapped limb. As the emergency lighting flickered into life Virgil hoped that Alan would release him quickly so he could assess the damage.

Alan had been jogging to the opposite end of the workshop when the drama began. He skidded to a halt as the space was plunged into darkness then spun around blindly as he heard the scream. He felt a surge of panic rise inside him and knew he had to get back to Virgil. He was still fumbling for the small torch on his tool belt when the emergency lighting flickered on. In the dim light he could make out the sight of the fallen traction unit and his brother sprawled on the floor.

Alan sprinted back up the workshop; he could hardly have reached his brother faster if he had one of his sports cars at his disposal. He skidded to the floor and crouched down by Virgil's head, unaware that his every action was being watched via a video feed.

"Virg! Are you ok?"

Virgil grimaced and tried to breathe through the pain. "Hurts", he panted "legs hurt". At least, Virgil reflected, he was in no state to give Alan directions.

"Stay where you are. I'll get help". Alan raised his arm and cried out "Alan calling Scott". No answer. He tried again "Alan calling John". Again, no answer.

Virgil closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He wasn't going anywhere. "Noone else here. You, gotta, get, me, out."

A look of comprehension crossed Alan's face. His father and the others were goodness knows where on the island and, judging from the unresponsive communicator on his wrist, couldn't currently be reached. He took some deep breaths, fighting the rising panic, and tried to think what to do.

His first thought was to get Virgil out from under the crushing machinery. Alan positioned himself behind his brother's head, raised Virgil's torso and tried to bodily drag the man out.

Another scream.

Alan dropped his brother heavily back to the floor. "I'm sorry" he gibbered, "uh, I don't want to make it worse. I need to grab a medical kit. I won't be long."

As Alan prepared to exit the workshop, right on cue, the fire alarm blared out. At the same time a series of lights started flashing in a control panel mounted on the wall. The various colours and positions of the lights indicated that a fire had broken out near the paint bay and that the automatic fire fighting system had malfunctioned. Smoke started filling the workshop.

Alan felt sick from the combined effects of adrenalin and fear. The location of the fire was far enough away that they were not in immediate danger but the twin risks of smoke inhalation and the fire reaching the highly flammable and potentially explosive paints meant that evacuation was the main priority.

Virgil lay on the floor trying to stay as still as possible. He had to admit the scenario was feeling pretty real. He focussed on the comforting knowledge that the smoke was synthetic and the lights on the fire control panel were currently only flashing because of the commands that John was sending to it. However, the intense pressure on his leg kept him acutely aware that not every element had followed the carefully laid plan. Alan had now moved out of his eyeline and Virgil hoped he would come up with a viable plan the raise the traction unit off of his trapped legs quickly. He could hear muttering and the sound of hurrying footsteps which suggested Alan was assessing the tools available. Then a roaring sound filled his ears.

Alan had been running between the various work benches and banks of equipment, barely registering the tools he had at his disposal. He knew he had to get out of the workshop quickly in case the fire spread to the paint bay but realised his stricken brother was totally reliant on him. The overwhelming thought surging through brain was that he had to free Virgil's legs. Spying a canister and hose carefully hung up on the wall he formed a plan. He ran over and pulled on the shoulder straps so the canister was on his back like a rucksack. The protective mask and gloves lay forgotten on the rack. He ignited the hose attachment and advanced on the traction unit. The oxyhidenite cutter would make short work of the traction unit and allow him to cut his brother free.

The observers, tucked out of the way and watching proceedings on a video monitor, turned to each other in horror. Oxyhidenite might make short work of the traction unit but it also had the potential to seriously injure both the men in the workshop. Without any protective equipment the intense light generated by the oxyhidenite at is cut through the metal was likely to blind Alan while the radiating heat would burn Virgil; that's if Alan didn't end up amputating Virgil's legs with the high powered torch. There was also a very real risk that the various oils and lubricants in the traction unit would be set alight leaving Virgil trapped under an obstacle that was not just heavy but also on fire.

"Abort" shouted Scott as he and Gordon sprinted into the workshop, acting on instinct and not waiting for their father to make the decision to end the exercise. The eldest brother was the first to reach the youngest and he wrestled the startled man backwards, detaching the hose from the gas cannister and extinguishing the flame. The lights came on as John reinstated power to the circuits and Gordon activated the air filtration system to clear the smoke. The lights on the fire control panel winked out. The simulation was over.

Alan was startled at the sudden turn of events. Unable to see who was behind him he struggled against the strong grip of his unknown attacker; his arms were pinned to his sides and the oxyhidenite cannister was being forced painfully into his shoulder blades as he was dragged backwards in a bear hug. The fight was crushed out of him and he submitted to his stronger assailant. Only when Alan stopped trying to break free did the strong arms release their grip, allowing Alan to turn and identify his brother.

"Virgil!" He panted. "We've got to get him out!". Alan was still confused at the sudden appearance of Scott and Gordon and it took him a moment to register that the new arrivals seemed completely unfazed by their brother's predicament.

"It's ok Alan." Scott's voice was calm and reassuring. "It was just a training exercise. Everything is fine."

Alan sagged as the level of adrenaline that had been coursing through his body plummeted.

"A...a...training exercise?"

"Yes. Virgil's fine. Aren't you Virg?" Scott directed his last question to his brother lying pinned to the floor.

The only answer he received was a pained grunt.

Gordon had rejoined the group by this point and he dropped to the floor next to Virgil. He took in his brother's screwed up features and laboured breathing. "Uh, Scott. I don't think he _is_ alright".

Scott's attention was immediately diverted to the situation in hand. Back in his habitual role of commander he swiftly took charge of the situation. He crouched down on the other side of Virgil and made a quick assessment of the problem. Of course he had the advantage that he had prior knowledge of the scenario and had spent the previous evening thinking through possible solutions and working out how he would go about performing the rescue. The only unknown was the extent of Virgil's injuries which should never have happened.

"Virgil, can you describe the pain to me?"

"Right leg," Virgil grunted. "Crushed. Don't think it's broken, yet. If that unit shifts though…"

Scott issued a quick command into the communicator on his wrist, one that brought Brains hurrying in with a stretcher and medical kit ready to deal with whatever injuries were currently hidden from view by the large piece of machinery.

Once he knew medical support was on hand in case shifting the machinery exacerbated the injury Scott tried reattaching the electromagenetic clamps. The hoist remained stubbornly unresponsive. Whether John had not yet re-established power to that circuit, or whether it was still protesting after the sudden shut down Scott wasn't sure, he just knew that he wasn't going to be raising the traction unit by that means.

"Gordon, get a set of jacks, I want four. Alan, we need some stabilising balloons."

His two siblings headed off in opposite directions to fetch the required equipment and soon returned with the requested items. The balloons were positioned first; the long tubular casings were slid under the traction unit as close as possible to Virgil's legs then inflated to try and relieve the pressure slightly.

Once they were assured that any jolts would be minimised by the balloons the brothers set to work with the jacks. The four jacks were slid under the four corners and raised until they were just grazing the underside of the traction unit. Scott then electronically tethered three of the jacks to a single master unit which would ensure that that load was raised evenly. After checking that Gordon was in position to drag Virgil clear Scott activated the controls and the heavy traction unit inched slowly upwards.

Two minutes later Virgil was being taken off to the infirmary on a stretcher.

Now that the crisis was over Alan sat on the floor, his head in his hands. Scott and Gordon, after sharing a concerned look, left him to it and started tidying up the scene. The traction unit was lowered to the floor where it could do no further damage. Equipment was checked and returned to its rightful place, including the discarded oxyhidenite cannister.

The inevitable debrief was an uncomfortable affair.

Lunch was even quieter than than it had been the day before. All those sat around the table felt the heavy gloom brought on by the failed training exercise. The news that Virgil's leg, while badly bruised, was otherwise uninjured did nothing to lift the mood. The fact that any harm had befallen him at all was another sign of failure and one that the Tracy patriarch was feeling most keenly.

Alan's seat remained empty.

xoxoxox

Alan lay on his bed, his arms wrapped around his pillow. Unseeing eyes gazed blankly at the wall as the events of the morning replayed through his mind. The silent tears had stopped falling but his cheeks still bore their evidence in the dirty smears left behind in the grime from the workshop.

A gentle tapping sounded on his door and he ignored it. Any hopes that the unwanted visitor would go away were dashed when the knocking came again followed by the unmistakable click of the door catch opening.

Alan stayed turned to the wall, furious at the intrusion and being found in such a vulnerable position. He expected to hear either his father or Scott, come to give him another dressing down. Or perhaps his grandmother offering comforting words and even more comforting apple pie. It was therefore a surprise when his visitor revealed itself to be John.

"Uh, Alan, can I come in?"

John took the silence as assent and stepped in, closing the door behind him. He placed a bowl on the corner of a desk strewn with papers and sat down at the foot of the bed; the warm smells pervading Alan's senses suggested he had at least been right about the apple pie.

"I thought you might be hungry."

Alan grunted something that might have been a thank you. He didn't move from his curled position, ashamed to let John see his red and puffy eyes.

"I know how you are feeling."

"I very much doubt that." Alan growled back.

"Dad will give you another chance."

"No. I proved him right today. You heard him at the debrief. I'm reckless, thoughtless and a danger to everyone around me. I may as well pack my bags now."

"I know he will give you another chance because he gave me one."

"What?" The surprising revelation caused Alan to sit up and survey his brother. John stayed staring across the room, unable to meet his brother's eye as he made his confession.

"You aren't the only person Dad has had doubts about. A few months back he set me my own training scenario and...it didn't go well."

"Bet you didn't end up nearly cutting your own brother in two."

"No. But I did put Grandma in danger."

"Grandma! What happened?"

"She forgave me." John knew he was deliberately avoiding the question. Most of his brothers had been off the island on a supply run that day and few people were aware of the events that still had him burning with shame. "The point is, so did Dad. I screwed up but he still gave me the opportunity to learn from my mistakes. Trust me, my debrief was just as bad as yours, mine was just less public. After he had ripped my actions and my character to shreds I was expecting to be sent packing on the next helijet out of here."

"So what changed?"

"I was furious at being set up and miserable that I could have hurt Grandma but after I calmed down I realised he only did it because he cares. He cares about International Rescue but more importantly he cares about _us_. He knows that when we start operations we will be dealing with things we can't yet imagine. In order to stay safe and come home in one piece we all need to be at the top of our game and that means working on the rough edges while we still have the chance, both as individuals and as a team. I've made plenty of mistakes but I've vowed to learn from them; I don't want to be the one that lets you all down. He knows you can do this Alan. He wouldn't have asked you to join if he didn't have total faith in you. He wants you as part of International Rescue and so do the rest of us."

"Really?"

"Really! You aren't the first person who has had to face up to a few home truths and had their weaknesses exposed and I'm pretty sure you won't be the last either. What matters now is how we move on from this and that's down to you. You can either sit in here brooding and give up on it all or you can treat it as a training exercise and learn from it."

John gazed around room. The furnishing was sparse and boxes were still waiting to be unpacked. A few posters of cars had been tacked to the walls, the creases and staple holes down the centre lines suggesting they had been ripped from the stack on magazines next to the bed. A pile of clean laundry lay on a chair and a cluster of dirty glasses filled the bedside unit.

He was suddenly struck by just how young he youngest brother was. Still a teenager in a house full of adults, the neglected bedroom highlighted that Alan had been putting in just as many hours as the rest of them and working just as hard to turn the island into a functioning base. John also mused that Alan was the only brother who hadn't flown the nest to live his own life. The rest of them had gone out into the world to start successful military or academic careers of their own choosing and willingly returned to take part in their father's venture. Alan might have spent a race season living out of a trailer but he had never moved out of the family home. The idea of rejection must have hit hard. John vowed to try harder with his youngest sibling.

"You should ask Virgil to paint you something a bit more personal" he said, gesturing to the tatty posters.

"I doubt he wants to talk to me at the moment."

"Give him time. There was no harm done in the end and you know Virgil doesn't hold grudges. Anyway, he is more interested in plotting revenge on Gordon at the moment."

"What on earth has Gordon done?"

"Brains has been studying those sleeves to work out why one of them cracked. He says that the coating got over stretched which compromised its strength. Gordon has been teasing Virgil about having fat legs."

Alan snorted in mirth and the laughter seemed to go some way to dragging him out of his despondency. "Gordon really does like to live dangerously. So, are you going to tell me what you did to Grandma?"

"I'm not quite ready to confess all. I'll tell you this though. Part of me is hoping Thunderbird 5 is operational before Christmas. Grandma has threatened it will be my turn to play the fairy on top of the tree and I'm not entirely sure she is joking."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N I was never intending this to go beyond the first chapter but I forgot to mark it as complete so my thoughts continued to wander. Poor Alan has got his emotions bouncing up and down like a yo-yo. There will be at least a third part to this though._

_I've upped the rating because the boys reminded me that they are not boys at all but young men and occasionally they like to break the rules, especially if their father is not around to pull them up on it._

xoxoxox

Despite John's assertion that Alan would be given another chance it didn't look like the Tracy patriarch was going to forgive and forget his youngest son's actions any time soon. Alan had returned to his room one evening to find his offer letter from MIT on his desk accompanied by a note outlining a budget for campus accommodation. It was an unambiguous declaration; Alan was expected to take up his place at College.

As if to seal his fate Jeff announced to the whole family over dinner how proud he was that Alan had been accepted to a top university. He didn't know whether the intention was to give him a noble means of escape from the island and a way of saving face or whether it was to cement the idea in his family's minds that Alan would not be part of International Rescue, Alan wasn't sure. He just knew it meant he had to endure his brothers' congratulations and slaps on the back when all he wanted to do was crawl back to his room and wallow in self pity. Only John showed some restraint although his congratulations were sincere.

John had stayed true to his word to keep an eye on his youngest sibling. In some respects Alan felt that John was trying to take over the role of mother hen from Scott. It seemed that wherever he went John was there to check up on him. Whenever John needed help with a task it was Alan he asked to be his work mate. The two brothers spent more time together in the days following the fateful training drill than they had in the previous year. Initially, when all he had wanted was to be left alone, Alan had found the attention smothering. As the days passed he began to find the company of his quietest brother to be calming influence. He was certainly learning more about communications and space flight that he would otherwise have done. He supposed that, if nothing else, it would give him a good grounding for the astronautics part of his course. He doubted there would be anyone else on the programme that could boast of having both a father and brother who were astronauts and he wondered if the tutors would have higher expectations of him because of it.

Alan was therefore unsurprised when John' quiet knock sounded on his door that evening after Jeff's dinner time announcement. The elder brother took his habitual place at the foot of the bed.

"So when were you going to tell us?"

"You mean about MIT?"

"Of course I mean about MIT. Unless you have any other secrets to spill?"

"Nah, just college." Alan sighed and sat down next to his brother, feet pulled up onto the bed, his back against the wall. He founded it easier to talk when they were side by side, it meant he didn't have to make eye-contact. "I suppose I was hoping it would all go away."

"When did you find out? I'm guessing the offer didn't arrive today, it's a bit late in the academic cycle for that"

"That day I argued with Dad. I was going to turn it down; it didn't seem to fit in with the plans for International Rescue. Dad thought I should take up the place and…and it felt like he was pushing me away. Now I _know _he doesn't want me here."

"Oh Alan. It's not that he doesn't want you here."

"Could have fooled me" Alan growled.

John sensed that his brother was slipping back into quiet seething anger and he ran the risk of being thrown out. He tried to change tack, his voice artificially bright. "So what's the course?"

"Astronautics and Aeronautics" Alan's tone suggested that if the course title had allowed for a mono-syllabic answer that would have been all John would have got.

"Can I take a look?"

"Sure." Alan gestured vaguely in the direction of his desk.

John found the bundle of MIT paperwork on the desk and began skim reading it. He could tell from the information there that the course was pretty intense. He internally raised an eyebrow in wonder that his little brother had been accepted.

As he looked through the titles on the pre-reading and core text lists he let out an involuntary snort of laughter. Alan looked up in surprise.

"What's so funny?"

"Your book list. Erm, two of them are mine."

"Yours?"

"Yeah. Those books I wrote when I was with the Space Agency. They're on your reading list."

Alan launched himself off the bed and grabbed the sheet of paper out of John's hand.

"No way! You're right. Maybe you do know some stuff after all. I suppose I ought to start listening when you start bleating on. It'll save me having to read them. You can be my walking audiobook."

The jokey Alan had returned. John gave a sigh of relief; crisis averted. He would much rather deal with his brother's teasing that the gloom or the anger. He knew where he was with an irreverent Alan.

"So are you going to stay hidden in here all night or are you going to come out and celebrate. As far as the others are concerned you just scored some major kudos. Gordon is already hoping you will invite him along to any college parties you go to. Do you realise he's jealous? He will be the only one not to have gone to college. He has liberated some drinks and stashed them by the pool. Scott and Virgil have promised not to let him start until I could drag you out."

"I don't think Dad is going to like the idea of a pool party."

"Dad isn't going to find out. Brains has taken him down to the laboratory to work through some knotty problem. They are going to been down there for hours; he even told Kyrano not to wait up. Grandma isn't likely to disturb us either, she has headed to her room with a new book and she is unlikely to emerge again tonight."

The idea of any of his siblings being jealous of him was a novel one. Alan began to feel a small creeping warmth inside him. Maybe this was something he should be proud of. He had been so focussed on his shame that he had forgotten his achievements. Alan paused just long enough to grab his swimming trunks before barrelling down the corridor and out towards the pool.

"Race you!" he yelled back over his shoulder to John who just grinned and set off after his brother.

xoxoxox

Out by the pool Scott and Virgil were spread out on loungers, relaxing in the hot south pacific evening. Gordon was in the water doing laps; even after a long day of physical labour the aquatic Tracy always had enough energy for a swim.

The two missing brothers arrived at the pool side in full sprint. Despite having a head start Alan was out-paced by his taller and longer limbed sibling and they arrived neck and neck. Virgil reached down by the side of his lounger and grabbed the pair of swim shorts he had stashed there. He threw them at John who caught them and grinned his thanks. Alan and John quickly shuffled out of their clothes and into their swimming kit.

The commotion on the pool side had penetrated Gordon's consciousness and he climbed out to join the others. He deliberately shook himself like a dog, eliciting groans from both Scott and Virgil as the cold drops showered over them. Gordon just grinned a wolfish grin before grabbing Alan into a fraternal embrace. Gordon being Gordon this was just a ploy to get hold of Alan. In one deft move he had swung around and launched the unsuspecting teenager into the pool. Alan resurfaced, spluttering, and swearing he would get his revenge.

Alan climbed out and dragged a lounger over to the others.

"John said there were drinks. I hope he didn't get me here under false pretences."

"Drinks?" Scott put on an air of feigned innocence. "You are far too young to be corrupted by the demon drink. Everyone over the age of 21, raise your hand."

Four hands went up, including Scott's own.

"Bad luck Alan. Maybe in a few years."

Gordon grinned and crouched down by some shrubs. There was a clinking sound as a crate of beers was withdrawn from its hiding place. Virgil popped the caps off four bottles and passed them round until only Alan was empty handed. Alan pouted. He only had to wait a moment though before a fifth bottle was uncapped and passed in to his outstretched hand. He tipped up the bottle and took a deep swig.

"Steady on Alan," cautioned Scott "don't drink it all at once."

"Yeah" muttered Virgil, "I don't want a repeat of when Gordon got in to WASP. My shoes were wrecked that night. One little brother who can't hold his drink is quite enough."

Gordon blushed until his face was a similar colour to his hair but the air of bravado quickly returned. "No chance of that. You aren't wearing shoes tonight."

Alan grinned. With a beer in hand and the evening sun warming his skin he felt completely and utterly accepted by his brothers. John had been right about Virgil not holding a grudge. If there had been an observer to the scene by the pool they would not have suspected any disquiet among the group. The purple and yellow mottling on Virgil's shin was the only evidence that anything untoward had happened.

The talk soon turned to Alan's college place. His older brothers were keen to hear about the course he had chosen and he basked in their quiet admiration. Gordon cracked a few jokes about having _yet another_ brother with his head in the clouds but the teasing was good natured. As more beers were passed around and the warm comfortable glow of alcohol and good company spread over Alan he felt happier than he has done for weeks. He was able to put aside the misery of the last few days and as his brothers talked fondly of their own college days he began to feel that maybe a couple of years at MIT wouldn't be so bad after all.

At one point a comment was made about Alan being able to learn about new technologies that would benefit International Rescue but John spotted Alan tense up at the name of the fledgling organisation and quickly steered the conversation back to college life.

As evening turned to night and the crate of beers had loosened their tongues and lowered their inhibitions Scott put an arm around Alan's shoulders.

"Now kid," he began in a fatherly way that had Alan rolling his eyes "when you get to college there are going to be girls...or guys, if that's your thing".

Alan's eyes rolled even further.

"And you are probably going to get some, uh, urges. It's all perfectly normal, but you need to be careful. Don't let yourself get carried away. Make sure you take precautions. I'll make sure you have a box packed."

Alan squirmed slightly at the direction the conversation was heading in. "I'm ok Scott. We really don't need to go in to this."

There was a quiet chuckle from Virgil who was evidently enjoying his youngest brother's discomfort. "Sure he does. Got to do his duty and warn the baby of the family. And anyway, why should you be the only one who escapes getting The Talk from Scott."

"No, really, we don't" Alan protested. "I've been through all this at school. It was bad enough hearing it from the teachers without you guys lecturing me."

Scott lowered his arm and looked slightly abashed. "I guess they probably covered most of it in your biology class. But if you have any questions you know you can come and ask, right?"

"I'll be fine." A smirk began to play across Alan's lips. "Anyway, anything the teachers didn't cover me and Amy Dixon figured out for ourselves. And yes, before you ask, we took precautions."

Scott looked thunderstruck. Virgil just laughed.

"What? Sometimes you guys forget I'm nineteen already, and forget just how much free time you got at boarding school if you weren't on the sports teams."

"You were sleeping around while you were at school! Seriously Alan, if you had got caught and Dad found out you..."

"Relax Scott. Dad never found out, and unless one of you guys tells him he never will. Besides, it's not like I was the first Tracy to have some fun behind the sports pavilion if the rumours from school are to be believed."

Scott shot an accusatory look at Gordon who just shrugged his shoulders. "You can't blame me for corrupting the kid. I was too busy in the pool for stuff like that."

Scott looked at his remaining two brothers. Virgil shook his head slightly which left John who was staring determinedly up at the sky and not meeting anyone's eye.

"John? You got anything you'd care to share with the group?"

"What can I say? It's a good spot to explore the wonders of the universe."

"Always the quiet ones you've got to watch out for" rumbled Virgil, clearly enjoying his oldest brother's discomfort just as much as he enjoyed watching his youngest brother squirm.

"Or is it just that blondes really do have more fun?" quipped Gordon.

"Urgh. That's enough" groaned Scott. He checked the now empty crate. "We do not have enough beer for me to deal with this tonight. Time you lot were all in bed anyway. Make sure you put all the empties back in the box and I'll find a way to get them into the trash."

The pool area was quickly cleared of any incriminating evidence. It wasn't that the boys weren't welcome to have the occasional drink but excessive consumption was definitely frowned upon in the Tracy household. None of them were keen to find out what level would tip the balance to 'excessive' in their father's eyes. Leaving behind a mess was also likely to raise his ire so not a single bottle cap was left unaccounted for. Only once Scott was completely satisfied that everything had been picked up did the boys head back through the house to the sanctuary of their own rooms.

As Alan lay in bed that night, the corners of the room slightly fuzzy and swirling, he felt a glow of contentment the has was sure wasn't just down to the alcohol. Relations with his Dad might still be strained but tonight his brothers had shown just how completely and utterly he was accepted by them. They made a good team. Each with their own different character but each fiercely loyal to all the others. Any teasing was good natured and if Gordon went too far one or other of the brothers would stamp on the irrepressible redhead before he could seriously hurt someone's feelings. The only downside was the bittersweet realisation that the closeness with his brothers meant he would really miss them when he headed off to begin his studies in a few months time.

xoxoxox

The following morning Alan was rudely awakened as Scott threw open the curtains and flooded the bedroom with light.

"Don't you know it's rude to barge in without knocking?"

"I did knock. But you were dead to the world, Sleeping Beauty. Come on, up you get."

Alan looked at his clock and groaned. His head was sore and the light felt too bright.

"Scott, it's only 6 o'clock. Breakfast isn't for hours. Leave me in peace."

Alan dragged the sheets over his head and turned towards the wall but it seemed that peace was not going to be forthcoming. Scott grabbed the sheets and ripped them off his protesting sibling. Alan was just grateful that he had taken the time to pull on some pyjama bottoms the night before. He gave up on the idea of getting any more sleep.

"So just why have you got me up at this unholy hour and how can you be so cheerful at this time of the morning?"

"Can't a guy want to spend some quality time with his baby brother. _We_ are going for a run."

Alan had forgotten his brother's fondness for early morning exercise. Scott was already dressed in his sports kit and Alan realised he was deadly serious.

"Get that drink down you" Scott said, gesturing the pint of fresh water he had placed on Alan's bedside table "then get your kit on. Trust me, you'll feel better for it."

Alan doubted it but he gratefully gulped down the water. Only once Alan was up and digging his own sports kit out of his drawers did Scott seem satisfied. He deftly remade the ruined bed while Alan got changed and the two brothers were soon ready to head out.

The set off down towards the beach, running side by side in silence. Scott set an easy pace, partly because he knew Alan didn't run as much as he did and partly because he (correctly) guessed that Alan would be feeling a few effects from the night before.

As their feet thudded in the soft sand Scott wondered how to break the silence. As the oldest he had always been the leader of the Tracy boys; the one the others turned to when they had problems and he felt a deep sense of duty to protect them. So when John had come and confided his worries about Alan, Scott had made a promise to do what he could to help. He personally had put Alan's disquiet down to the typical moods of a teenager trying to find his place in the world but John seemed sure that the problems ran deeper. John had certainly spent the most time recently with their youngest brother and Scott trusted his judgement that something was wrong even if he was sceptical at John's pronouncement that the rift between Alan and their father was reaching an irrepairable depth.

"So how are you feeling? Has the sea air cleared your head yet?"

"I'm ok. You don't need to worry about me. It was only a couple of beers."

"Yeah. I keep forgetting you aren't a kid any more. You were a grubby brat covered in engine oil when I left home. Grandma used to get so mad when you left bits of your go-kart on the kitchen table. I remember her making Dad clear out one of the barns so you could have a proper workspace."

Alan grinned. "It wasn't only Grandma that got mad. Virgil used to go pretty ape if I borrowed his tools without asking."

"Everyone thought the car thing was a phase. You sure proved us wrong though. I'm glad I sorted my discharge from Air Force before your last race otherwise I would have missed you winning the World Championship. I'm just sorry I couldn't be there more earlier on. I don't think I got to see a single one of your races on the karting circuit."

"Yeah, well, you didn't miss much there. You probably wouldn't have approved. Dad came along one day and nearly banned me from racing ever again. Reckless and a danger to myself and others was how he described it. Seems to be a bit of a theme with me."

"I'm surprised you didn't go for an automotive course at MIT. I never had you down as a fan of planes and space rockets."

"Dad's always set such store by the Air Force and the Space Agency and there was no way I was getting in to either, unlike you and John. I thought if I could do something related to the two it might make him notice me in a good way."

Scott was starting to think that John might be right. Alan kept bending the conversation round to their father; he seemed to be craving acceptance but finding only disapproval.

"Dad would have no problem with you going your own way. Look at Virgil and Gordon. Dad supported Gordon joining WASP rather than the Air Force and he always encouraged them with their swimming, art and music. Why don't you see if you can transfer to a course that suits you more?"

"It's ok. Actually, I'm quite looking forward to it now. John has made the astronautics side of it sound pretty interesting and the aeronautics could be useful too. Did you know some of John's books are on my reading list?"

"No, he kept that one quiet. At least you know you can go to him if you need any help and I'll be on hand to help with the aeronautics if you need me."

"Thanks. I need to try and do this myself though."

The jogged on in companionable silence for a while. As they rounded a headland the terrain underfoot because rockier and the had to slow down or they risked turning an ankle. This time it was Alan that broke the silence.

"I'm going to miss you guys when I'm gone. I've watched you all leave, one by one. I never thought we would all be back together one day and now I'm the one moving out."

"You won't have time to miss us. Before long you'll have loads of college friends."

"And girlfriends. I'm sure they will keep me busy" Alan sniggered.

Scott's face clouded and he looked thoughtful. "Alan, I mean what I said last night. Be careful."

"Are you going to try and lecture me again, because I don't think I can handle it sober."

"Sort of. I don't just mean be careful in the practical sense. I mean be careful of who you share your affections with. You've got the lot; looks, brains, money and fame. There are going to be plenty of people whose intentions are less than honourable. I don't want you getting hurt because some vulture wants to gets their claws into your bank balance or sell your story to some trashy magazine. There are plenty of journalists that would pay well for an exclusive on the mysterious rookie race champ."

"So no waving my trophy around while shouting 'my dad's a billionaire' then. I guess I'll have to think of a different chat up line."

"I'm serious Alan."

"You don't need to worry, Scott, I'm quite happy to stay out of the limelight. On campus I'll just be plain old Alan. I doubt anyone would recognise me from the track unless they had actually worked for the team. I stuck by the whole minimal publicity thing and didn't do any interviews." Alan's voice took on a note of bitterness as he continued "There will be nothing to connect me with the great Jeff Tracy either; Dad said he won't have time to leave the island so there is no chance of anyone seeing us together on campus."

Scott was stunned. While their father had always been busy and often absent from their lives he had always done his best to be there for big life events and starting university certainly counted in that category. When he, Virgil and John has started at Yale, Denver and Harvard respectively their father had made the time to take them on registration day. When he and Gordon had started their careers in the Air Force and with WASP, again, their father had made the time to drop them on base for the start of basic training. To hear that the same support was not being extended to Alan was a bombshell he had not expected.

"Is John taking you then? I know the pair of you have got pretty close and it's a bit of a long flight for Grandma to do now. Or I'll take you if you want."

"Dad said it didn't make operational sense to have any of you ferrying me about so I'm going alone. He can't afford to have any of you out of action for a couple of days just to be my taxi service. He's ordered a new plane and rented some hangar space at a private airfield near campus. I'll be able to get myself back each vacation. On the plus side, at least it means I finally get my own set of wings."

"That's one hell of a long flight to do solo. Are you sure you're ok to do that?

"I'll be fine. Let's face it, you aren't a proper Tracy if you can't fly. In between races last season Dad made sure I got all my licences in order. Single engine, multi-engine, night flight and instruments only; I've got the lot."

Scott could feel the anger and resentment emanating from Alan and part of him knew it was justified. The protective side of him wanted to rush back to the house and confront their father. He wanted to point out the damage Jeff was doing but he also knew that their father was the most headstrong and stubborn of the whole family. The chain of command in the Tracy household was firmly set and insubordination would not go unpunished. John was right; the whole situation was going to need careful handling, starting with getting Alan to calm down before they returned to the house.

"So what's the new plane?"

"No idea. Dad chose it and hasn't given me the details. I know it will be ready to pick up some time next week though. Apparently it's being delivered as far as Brisbane. Say, Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you could come with me to Oz to collect it? I don't fancy a couple of hours stuck in a cockpit with Dad at the moment."

"Sure. You leave it to me. I'll ask him when he is in a good mood and see if I can wangle us a day off in the city."

Alan brightened up at the thought of a day away from the island and by the time they had returned to the villa he was in a much more cheerful mood. Scott had also been right about the early morning run being good for his head and he was ready to face the day with much more optimism.

Unfortunately any optimism was crushed over the breakfast table.

Jeff presided over the meal from his usual place at the head of the table. Throughout the meal he visibly preened as though holding in some amazing secret. The brothers shared curious glances as the meal progressed, wondering what had put their father in such a good mood. As breakfast drew to a close and the last of the coffee was finished Jeff made his announcement.

"I've got a new task for you all today, one that I think you are going to enjoy."

The brothers sat up straighter in anticipation.

"Last night Brains and I put the finishing touches to the flight simulators. So far you have only had Thunderbird Four available to train with along with some of the heavy engineering equipment. With the new simulators you will be able to get used to the aircraft that will make up out fleet, Thunderbirds One, Two and Three, in preparation for when they are ready for flight. The technology in the Thunderbirds will be beyond anything you have used before and Thunderbird Two is on a completely different scale to other aircraft out there so it is vital you put in the hours on the simulators. While you will have a primary aircraft each I need you each to be competent and comfortable in all of them; you never know when you might need to pilot someone else's Thunderbird. Your main focus though should be on your own craft. Scott in Thunderbird One. Virgil in Thunderbird Two, Gordon your focus should also be Two as you will be co-piloting. John, you get Thunderbird Three. Once breakfast is over I want the four of you to go down to Brains' laboratory, he will give you your simulator log-ins and show you how to use the system."

Alan visibly slumped. John cast a meaningful glance towards Scott, the thunderous look his saw in his brother's eyes gave him the assurance that Scott had grasped the scale of the situation they faced. Scott was well aware of the implications of their father's speech. Not only was Alan not assigned to a craft, he wasn't even getting a log-in for the simulators. Any work the brothers had done to bolster their youngest sibling's confidence had been crushed by a few words from their father.

Scott couldn't tell if this exclusion by their father was deliberate or if he was so wrapped up in getting International Rescue operational that he was ignorant to the pain he was causing. He also knew that a full on confrontation in front of the whole family was not the way to tackle this. His protective side kicked in with vengeance but he was lost as to how to fix things.

As the four eldest Tracys followed their father down to the laboratory, leaving Alan alone to clear the breakfast table, John walked close behind his older sibling and muttered "You believe me now?" The curt nod he received in reply showed he would no longer be dealing with healing the hurt teen on his own.

xoxoxox

Scott might not yet have a plan of how to change his father's attitude but that didn't stop him from doing his best to keep his youngest brother happy. He was pleased to see that the bond between Alan and John continued to grow. The quiet astronaut seemed to calm the soul of the tempestuous teen. Alan wasn't the only one benefiting from the relationship; John seemed to enjoy finding a kindred spirit with a shared love of space and now sought the younger man out through choice rather than from a sense of duty. When Alan was in a good mood his outgoing nature would bring John into the family fold in a way the others had never been able to.

Scott kept his promise to Alan to tackle their father about the necessary trip to Australia. By picking his moment carefully he had managed to negotiate a days shore leave not just for himself and Alan but for all the brothers. And so, bright and early one morning, it was five cheerful young men who boarded one of the family jets for a day on the Gold Coast.

One of the disadvantages of living on a remote island was that you couldn't really be spontaneous. Supplies had to be carefully calculated and ordered and purchases were limited to what could be ordered online and brought over in a supply plane. Every inhabitant of the island had furnished the brothers with an extensive shopping list of items that they would otherwise find hard to source. Kyrano's list had them practically salivating as it was mostly comprised of fresh foodstuffs that were hard to cultivate on the island or exotic spices that were difficult to import. While Scott flew the jet the others divided up the shopping lists in a logical way that would mean the task would take the minimum amount of time to complete and leave them plenty of time for their own browsing.

They touched down at the small airfield to the north of city where the new plane had also been delivered to. Scott liaised with the sales agent and arranged that they would be back to collect the plane at 4 pm. This left them with plenty of time to head in to the city, complete their shopping and enjoy the delights on offer there.

A car hire firm was situated opposite the airfield and the brothers settled on a large utility truck that had sufficient cab space to carry all five in comfort and still leave plenty of space for their purchases. John was elected designated driver as he was the only one that wouldn't be pulling pilot or co-pilot duty on the trip. Before long they were in the heart of the city and ready to hit the shops.

The brothers divided up into ones and twos with instructions to all meet at a seafront cafe for lunch before they hit the supermarket in the afternoon for the foodstuffs. Throughout the morning the siblings would regroup and divide again in new configurations. To the casual observer the interactions might have looked random but closer inspection would reveal that one particular player in this dance was never left alone. The Tracys had always been protective of their own and, while they might not have realised it, on a subconscious level they were naturally looking out for their most vulnerable member. For Alan it just meant that he always had company and got to spend time with every single one of this siblings.

At the designated hour four of the brothers were sat at an outside table in front of their nominated eatery. Virgil looked at his watch and grumbled at being being kept from his food and that it would serve Gordon right if the ordered without him. They didn't have long to wait before the errant redhead arrived, laden down with his purchases.

"What, is, that?" Scott asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Duh, it's a surfboard."

"I can see that. But why do you have one?"

"Wanted one" Gordon pouted, leaning his new purchase against the wall and dumping down armfuls of bags next to the table.

Scott was quite glad he had had the foresight to hire one of the larger trucks.

Lunch was soon ordered and the wait while the food was prepared gave them a chance to check that everything on the lists had been bought and also to compare purchases.

Gordon's trip to the surf shop hadn't just furnished him with a board, he also proudly showed off some new shirts that were so garish that they were an assault on the eyeballs.

Virgil's quest had been for some particular pigments he wanted for his latest art project, not that he would tell anyone what he was working on.

John shyly confessed that Gordon was not the only one that had been clothes shopping although in his case it had been from necessity. The inherent secrecy needed to ensure the security and success of International Rescue meant that much of the work needed to turn their island paradise into a secret base was being completed by the family themselves. The physical labour this entailed had left the quiet, bookish astronaut both tanned and toned and as a consequence his shirts were straining over his expanded muscles.

After lunch was the trip to the supermarket. Scott gave up all attempts at control as they toured the aisles. One cart was used for the items requested by Kyrano while a second was quickly filled with whatever snacks and sweets took their fancy. Food on the island was both delicious and nutritious but in the supermarket surrounded by all the colourful packets they were, quite literally, like kids in a candy store. Childhood favourites were thrown in and Scott was possibly the biggest culprit of the lot of them. They made sure that the crate of beer that had lubricated their pool side celebration was replaced but for the most part you would have thought the shopping had been completed by a bunch of unruly ten year olds, not a group of grown young men. It was a heavily laden vehicle that made its way back to the airfield that afternoon.

Scott quickly dispatched three of his siblings and the shopping off in the family jet; Virgil and Gordon acting as pilot and co-pilot. He didn't want Alan dealing with the pressure of an audience as they took ownership of the new wings that were going to be his means of getting to MIT.

Jeff had already contacted the sales agent to inform him that it would be his son rather than himself who would be signing the paperwork. This did not stop the man from blanching slightly when he realised that it was the younger of the two men stood in front of him who would be piloting the expensive new plane. The relaxed day in the sunshine had lifted both Alan's mood and his expression which in turn made him look younger than his nineteen years and it was only on production of Alan's pilots licence that he was reassured that Alan was even legally old enough to fly.

A member of the airfield ground crew taxied the plane of the hanger and into the sunshine ready for inspection by her new owner. Scott had an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of aircraft and he was impressed by his father's choice. The aircraft was a sleek jet that combined speed with efficiency. This particular model had the long range necessary for the journey that would cross the entire United States and most of the Pacific Ocean. It also has a surprisingly short runway requirement as was necessitated by their island home.

The inside of the aircraft was more utilitarian. Rather than furnishing the passenger cabin to high end specifications Jeff had instead opted for a simple layout that was both comfortable and practical. The main cabin was set to seat ten with an empty compartment for luggage at the rear. Scott noted with approval that all the passenger seats were able to be removed or reconfigured if required which would allow the jet to be turned into a small transporter plane if necessary.

After pronouncing themselves satisfied by their general inspection Alan completed the necessary paperwork that passed ownership of the sleek craft to him. He and Scott then headed back to the plane to conduct the more thorough pre-flight checks needed before they could take off for home.

While it took every ounce of his self control not to take over Scott stepped back and gave his brother room to conduct the pre-flight checks. He was slightly surprised at how calm and conscientious his brother was; part of him had expected Alan to be either slapdash with excitement or nervous at the prospect of piloting a new machine. As they entered the cockpit Scott also had to fight the impulse to take the pilots chair and had to consciously force himself to take the co-pilot side.

As Alan flicked the switches that brought the jet to life Scott felt himself tense up. He was not a good passenger when it came to trips by air and much preferred to be the one in charge of the control yoke. Permission to take off was soon granted by the tower and Alan started his journey along the runway. The jet accelerated and quickly generated sufficient lift for her wheels to lose contact with the ground. Before Scott knew it they were up in the air and turning out towards the open sea.

"Nicely done" he complimented. "I was a little concerned you would be out of practice. I've not seen you take a plane up since you joined us on the island months ago."

"I haven't" Alan replied casually. "I can't really remember the last time I flew."

Scott paled at the implications of this. "You could have warned me. I'd have taken you up for a few flights to ease you back in to it. Perhaps I should take over and do the landing, I'm quite happy to do that."

"I'm sure you would be but I've got it covered, I've put in a few hours on the simulators. This thing flies like a dream. She isn't as fast or responsive as Thunderbird One though."

Scott looked puzzled. "I didn't think you had access to the simulators"

"Technically I don't. John has been letting me share his log-in details. He didn't see why I should miss out and I've not taken away from anyone else's training time. Thunderbird Two is a bit of a beast. I don't think I'll ever get used to the size of her."

"I suppose there is no harm done. I'm also quite pleased to hear you have been getting in some flying time, even if it is in simulated form. Mind if I give her a try, I promise to give control back before we reach the island."

Alan knew that his brother was just itching to find out what the new plane felt like. He passed over control and watched the grin spread over Scott's face. Flying was as much a part of life for Scott as walking and talking. He grew grumpy if grounded for too long and revelled in the sense of euphoria that came from taking to the air. With a control yoke in hand Scott was in his natural element. He tested the responses of the new craft and felt satisfied that she was up to the job in hand.

The jet quickly traversed the miles of ocean. As a small speck of land came into view Scott passed control back to Alan so he could make the final approach. Alan radioed through to island base and received permission to land. Scott's arms were tense as he gripped the edges of his seat, ready to grab the yoke if Alan should falter. He needn't have worried though. Alan executed a flawless landing down the dead centre line of the runway in a manoeuvrer that Scott himself would have been proud of. In fact, the watchers inside the villa who were observing the arrival via a video feed were half convinced that Scott had been the one at the controls and took some persuading by Scott before they would believe otherwise.

As Alan headed to his room that night he thought back to his glorious flight home. Scott had made sure that credit had fallen where it was due and he had received congratulations on his textbook landing. Even his father had given praise after hearing Scott's glowing report on his flying skills. Alan himself had revelled at the feeling of being in control of a plane again. While he had enjoyed his time on the racing circuits there was something about the graceful power of flight that appealed to him and he had a natural talent that marked him out as a Tracy.

The long day had tired him out and he was ready to flop in to bed. As he pulled back the covers he let out a chuckle. It seemed that not only had Scott decided to fulfil his promise to make sure he stayed safe at college but his other brothers had also taken it upon themselves to visit a pharmacy on his behalf. Four boxes of condoms were tucked under his sheet. Three proclaimed themselves to be extra safe while the fourth promised an assortment of neon colours and tropical flavours. No prizes for guessing which brother had gone against the grain he mused as he tucked the boxes in the back of a drawer.

All in all it had been a good day.


	3. Chapter 3

Alan sat on his bed, staring at the picture in his hands. He would be heading off to university in a little over a week and was meant to be packing. Instead, books and clothes were strewn in untidy piles around the room and the cases he was meant be be filling were mostly empty.

The picture that had halted his progress was his parting gift from Virgil, given early so he had a chance to store it safely for the journey. It turned out that this had been Virgil's secret project that had necessitated the extra art supplies from Brisbane.

The image had been recreated from a photograph taken the first night that Gordon had returned to the island, thus completing the fraternal quintet that now called that tropical island home. The five figures were happily smiling for the camera with arms around each others shoulders, revelling at being reunited. Alan was central to the group, flanked by Gordon and John, with Scott and Virgil forming the outer ends of the line. The men smiling out of the canvas looked carefree.

As Alan stared down at the scene he wondered when they would next be able to recreate that happy night. While he hoped to be able to make it home for the Christmas holidays he also knew that the Massachusetts winter could be brutal with air traffic frequently grounded. He didn't relish the prospect of a lonely Christmas stuck half a world away from his family.

He carefully wrapped the painting in tissue then placed it into a half-full case of clothes. Once the case was fully packed the painting would be well protected against any knocks in transit.

A knock on the door halted his already painfully slow progress at packing. He was unsurprised to see a blonde head peering round the frame. John was still his most frequent visitor, even more so now that the start of term was approaching.

"You're wanted in the lounge. There's a job you're needed for."

Alan let out a deep sigh of resignation. "Really? What is it this time?"

"Just hurry up. I think you'll like this one."

John disappeared. Alan dumped the pile of books he had been sorting back onto his desk and headed off to the lounge.

In the lounge Brains, Virgil and John were already gathered by his father's desk. Alan approached with some trepidation.

"Take a seat, Alan" Jeff directed.

Alan sat in the empty place indicated by his father. It was an unusual working party that was gathered and he wondered what the task was. He wasn't kept in suspense for long.

"I've been informed by the build team that Thunderbird Five is ready to be commissioned. Of course, the fit out is very basic because I couldn't have anyone else working with our more specialised equipment. Thunderbird Three is also ready for launch so you will be heading up on the first supply run to start doing the technical fit out."

Jeff paused to allow his words to sink in before continuing. John and Brains had evidently known what was coming because they looked completely unsurprised at the announcement.

"John and Brains have been leading on this project so I'm going on their recommendations. Virgil, Brains tells me you have currently logged the second highest number of training hours in Thunderbird Three's simulator so you are going a co-pilot. Your engineering skills may also come in useful if there are any snagging issues with the way Thunderbird Five has been left. Alan, John has informed me that you have been helping him with the schematics for Five and he has personally requested you for this trip." Jeff's tone suggested he was sceptical of the wisdom of this choice. "Scott and Gordon have been loading the equipment you will be taking up. Brains and John will give you a further briefing on the specific tasks that need performing. I want you ready to leave in one hour."

The group were dismissed to make their preparations. Alan followed the others down to Brains' laboratory to hear the details of the job. All four were fizzing with excitement. The first flight of Thunderbird Three and first boarding of Thunderbird Five was a momentous occasion.

xoxoxox

The next hour sped by as though it too were rocket powered. The four tasked with the mission were both excited and apprehensive at the prospect of heading in to space. John at least had the advantage that he has been off Earth previously during his time as an astronaut for the Space Agency; for the others it would be an entirely new experience.

They made their way directly from the laboratory to Thunderbird Three's hanger. Alan had been in inside the space rocket a few times before with John but he still marvelled at the enormity of its sleek red form. The tip of the spaceship was a distant speck in the shadowy heights of the launch bay. You couldn't help but be in awe of the mighty machine.

A lift took them up into the rocket and the crew settled themselves into their seats. John and Virgil were stationed on the main flight deck while Alan and Brains were in a secondary crew compartment just behind them. John's voice came over the intercom system.

"Is everybody harnessed in?"

He received an affirmative from all passengers.

"Good, things are going to get a little uncomfortable soon but the g-force will lessen once we leave Earth's atmosphere. I'll leave this comms link open for the duration of the trip but you will need to stay quiet while I talk to Dad."

John completed some pre-launch checks then opened the radio link to the main island base.

"Thunderbird Three to base. We are in position and request permission to launch."

Jeff's disembodied voice responded. "Base to Thunderbird Three. Blast shields are closed. Opening aperture now." There was a pause and the crew inside the rocket could imagine the launch bay roof, concealed inside the round house, retracting so that the nose of Thunderbird Three was exposed to the sky. "Thunderbird Three you are clear to launch."

A thrill of excitement filled the rocket. Unbeknownst to her crew a similar excitement had gripped the other island inhabitants who had all gathered in the lounge area to witness the maiden launch of Thunderbird Three.

John completed the launch sequence and the mighty thrusters roared in to life. The roar of the rockets was muffled inside the cabin but the raw power could be felt in the vibrations that rumbled through their chairs. With a force that left those inside pressed back into their seats the rocket left the ground and sped up into the clear blue skies above the island. To those bearing witness on the ground she was soon a distant speck that quickly vanished to nothing.

For the occupants of the rocket their vertical ascent towards space was a mix of exciting, terrifying and uncomfortable. The compression suits they were each wearing lessened the effects of the g-force but the flight still took its toll. Just when Alan thought he couldn't stand the pressures being exerted on his body any longer the tension was suddenly released as the rocket exited Earth's atmosphere and started the horizontal cruising phase of the journey. Unfortunately Brains experienced the same reduction in forces at the same time; never the best of travellers he just had time to grab a strategically placed bag before he vomited copiously.

"Everyone ok back there?" Virgil's voice came over the intercom.

"I'm fine," Alan responded "but I don't think Brains is enjoying it too much." He looked sideways at the quiet scientist who was looking distinctly green and breathing in short, shallow pants. "How long is this journey likely to take?"

"About another 40 minutes" John answered

For those on the flight deck those forty minutes were wondrous as John pointed out celestial bodies. Virgil felt like he was seeing the stars for the first time. Everything looked so different without the haze of Earth's atmosphere obstructing the view. For Alan seeing that same view projected onto a video screen in the rear cabin it wasn't quite the same. Especially as John's descriptions were frequently interrupted by the sound of Brains retching into a bag. The used sick bags sealed tightly but the smell was still beginning to permeate the compartment.

In the centre of the video screen a speck appeared and Alan was very pleased to hear John's announcement that Thunderbird Five was now in sight. As the mighty rocket powered forwards the space station appeared larger and clearer.

The crew of the rocket had all seen images of the satellite but this was the first time anyone from the island had seen Thunderbird 5 in real life. The contractors had been led to believe that the satellite was linked to a new subsidiary of Tracy Industries; Tracy Broadcasting. The cover story for the satellite was that it was a media relay station which went some way to explaining away the various aerials attached to the outer hull.

John reopened the communications link to Tracy Island. "Thunderbird Three to Base. Approaching Thunderbird Five now. Preparing for docking procedure."

Jeff voice responded immediately "Base to Thunderbird Three. How is she looking?"

"Just perfect Dad."

"Take her in nice and easy John. Base out."

Silence reigned again. No-one wanted to disturb John as he attempted the docking manoeuvrer. The aperture of the docking shaft looked impossibly small and Virgil, in his front row seat, held his breath in anticipation. John, a picture of intense concentration on his face, carefully monitored the sensors and made minute adjustments to their position until the spaceship was perfectly aligned with the docking shaft. When all the sensors gave a positive reading he eased the nose forwards. Loud thunks reverberated around the cabin as the electromagnetic clamps engaged, locking the Thunderbird Three securely into place.

"Thunderbird Three to Base. Docking complete. Equalizing pressures now."

In under a minute John must have received the confirmation he needed from the control panel that the pressure in the air lock had reached the required levels.

"Air pressure equalised. Opening airlock for boarding."

Alan realised he was still harnessed to his seat. In his excitement and anticipation he had forgotten to release his restraints. In a few deft movements he had freed himself and bounded on to the main flight deck to join his brothers. Virgil was looking slightly dazed and John was grinning like a Cheshire cat. The looked around when Alan entered.

"Nice going John. Smooth as a bird."

"Thanks. Everything worked perfectly, just like Brains designed. Speaking of Brains, how is he?"

"I'd give him a few minutes if I were you. Remember how he was after Scott took him flying and tried some aerobatics?" The others nodded, remembering how unnaturally pale that experience had left Brains who had refused to board a plane for several weeks after. "Well I'd say he is worse this time. I don't think space travel agrees with him."

"We should have predicted that one" said Virgil. "I forgot that man can get motion sickness in a lift. I should have some anti-emetics in my first aid kit. I'll make sure I dose him up before the journey home. So, John, are you going to lead the way?"

Thunderbird Five had started communicating with Thunderbird Three once the docking procedure was complete and John had been able to check via the displays within the rocket that the space station's life support systems and gravity modulator were fully operational. Once he was assured that Thunderbird Five was maintaining a suitable air pressure and oxygen concentration he led the three brothers in single file towards the airlock and out into the connecting chamber.

xoxoxox

John opened the final door and the interior of Thunderbird 5 was revealed. It was underwhelming. The space that was to be the main control room contained various empty display banks waiting to be filled with the specialist monitoring and communications equipment. The crew quarters were sparse because as far as the contractors were concerned the satellite was not going to be permanently manned. The only section that seemed alive was the room that housed the life support and gravity modulation equipment; there were the only systems that were operational. The scale of the work still to be undertaken hit the brothers like a brick.

"It's not exactly homely, is it?" Alan commented.

Virgil just shrugged. "So what's the plan?" he asked.

"My priority is to get the secure communications link to home set up. We also need to get all the equipment unloaded."

"You know" Alan mused "I was kinda hoping I'd get to try out zero gravity. This feels more like fitting out Brains' lab than a space station."

John grinned at him. "I must admit I always liked it whenever I experienced zero gravity with the Space Agency. I suppose my first check _could_ be to see if the gravity modulator is functioning correctly."

"Any words of warning before you try it?"

"Yeah. I suggest you both find an anchor point and attach a string line. The open space here is a little bigger than in the craft the Space Agency sent me to. You don't want to get stuck in the middle somewhere."

Alan and Virgil pulled some string out of the pouches on their suits. They each tied one end to a grab handle and, on John's instruction, played out a long length before tying the string off around their waists. Once he was sure that everyone was ready John gradually reduced the output of the gravity modulator until the dial reached zero.

The sensation of the reducing gravity was unusual and one that Virgil wasn't sure he was keen on. Alan on the other hand was soon turning somersaults and whooping like an overexcited schoolboy. His blonde hair looked even more tousled that usual as he careered about in all directions. John and Virgil looked on indulgently. All too soon for Alan's liking John was instructing him to follow his string line back to the grab handle and get his feet back on the ground ready for the gravity to be increased again.

"Come on, kid. Play time is over. We have work to do."

"Spoilsport. Admit it though, you enjoyed that just as much as I did."

John had to agree. He had always revelled in the freedom that zero gravity gave him and it felt good to experience weightlessness again. Virgil wasn't quite so keen but he agreed that it was something he was glad to have experienced at least once in his life.

The three brothers made their way back into the rocket to check on Brains and assess the task ahead. The scientist seemed to have regained his composure and was running through a checklist of equipment. He still looked a little pale but as he didn't raise the issue of his sickness the brothers decided not to press him on the topic; they knew that Brains could sometimes feel a little embarrassed that his constitution was not as strong as that of the Tracy boys.

The space inside the rocket was cramped the four men soon found that they were getting in each others way with trying to unload all the equipment. It was Alan who hit on the solution. At his suggestion the equipment that John would need to set up the secure communications link was unloaded first. The rest of the equipment was heavier and bulker and many pieces needed two people to manhandle them. Or at least they needed two people under Earth-equal gravity. By reducing the gravity levels within Thunderbird Five Alan was able to move the equipment alone. Virgil, not being fond of the sensation of reduced gravity, and Brains being unwilling to try it with an unsettled stomach, worked together to move the equipment within the rocket to the airlock and into the zone where Thunderbird Five's gravity modulator took over. Alan could then ferry the equipment onwards with ease on his own. This left John, who was unperturbed by working in low gravity, free to get on with the task of establishing communications.

As Alan shuttled backwards and forwards around the space station he chatted to John who was bent over what was going to be the main communications console.

"So what's that plan for manning this place now?"

"I don't think it's set in stone yet. One option is that Scott, Virgil and I take it on a three way rotation. Either that or I do every other month with Scott and Virgil taking it in turns to relieve me one month in four."

"Not Gordon?"

"Would you trust Gordon up here for a month?" John snorted. "I'm sure he would take a turn if he was asked but I don't think he is really suited to being cooped up in space."

"He managed ok down on the submarines."

"It's not so much the lack of space as the lack of people. On the subs he always had company. Anyway, his skills as an aquanaut are far too valuable down on earth. None of the rest of us could do what he does."

"Don't let Gordon hear you say that. His ego doesn't need inflating any more that it is already."

"True" John snorted. He places a final component into the communications console then straightened up. "There, I think that's got it. I'm going to try calling father so can you stay quiet for a moment?"

Alan nodded his agreement.

"Thunderbird Five to base; so you read me?"

There was a momentary pause before their father's voice came back loud and clear. "Thunderbird Five? Receiving you strength five. That was quick work John."

"I think I've established secure connections to all the Tracy frequencies but I want to run a few tests if you can bear with me. I'm going to cut you off now and try Gordon." John pressed a few buttons. "Thunderbird Five to Gordon."

"Receiving you strength five, John" came back Gordon's voice.

"Gordon, are you in the lounge with father?"

"Yes, Scott's here too"

"Good. Can you confirm if it's just your communicator working or is the line to the lounge still open?"

"Just mine."

"Great, that's what I was hoping. I'm going to try an open line now." There was a slight pause while John manipulated the still unfamiliar controls. "So how is it now?"

It was Jeff who responded this time. "Still as clear as a bell. You are coming through in the lounge and all of our personal communicators too."

Virgil's voice cut in "Receiving you in Thunderbird Three too."

John breathed a sigh of relief. "Excellent. I might need to run a few more tests later but it looks like the audio lines are functioning correctly. I'm going to sort the video feed next so you can see as well as hear me but that might take some time to get wired in correctly. Thunderbird Five out."

The three brothers and Brains continued to work hard setting up the space station. John got the video link up and running and everything from the first equipment run was unloaded. The gravity modulator was returned to standard strength and the four men took a final look around the space station. There was still a lot of work to do and many more equipment runs would be needed before the Thunderbird Five would be fully operational and habitable but for a first visit everyone agreed it had been a success.

"Thunderbird Five to base; we are heading home."

xoxoxox

The four men climbed back through the airlock and made sure everything was securely shut. Alan started to head through to the crew compartment with Brains when Virgil put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"How do you fancy riding up front for the trip back?"

Alan's eyes lit up. "You mean it? Shouldn't you be on the flight deck with John?"

"John's got it all covered. There is an anti-emetic injection in the medical kit that I'm going to give to Brains to try and make the trip more comfortable for him. Call it my duty as the designated medic to keep an eye on my patient."

Alan grinned, "Thanks Virg." He hurried on to the flight deck before Virgil could change his mind.

Alan settled himself into the co-pilot seat and harnessed himself in. John checked that everyone was ready then started the procedure that would detach the rocket from the space station. He gently feathered the thrusters and Thunderbird Three slid slowly backwards out of the docking tube.

Once they were safely clear of Thunderbird Five John turned Thunderbird Three around and pointed her back towards the Earth. Alan was stunned but the enormity of what he was seeing. To see the whole planet from afar was an an awe inspiring experience.

"It's pretty special isn't it. I remember my first trip for the Space Agency. It felt like I was really seeing the Earth for the first time. You just don't get the same appreciation of the scale and beauty when you are stood on the surface."

Staring down at the tiny planet he called home Alan felt inclined to agree. "I always thought you were a bit of a space cadet with your head among the stars but perhaps you astronauts have got the right idea after all. It really puts a whole new perspective on life."

"Hey, less of the 'space cadet'. I can leave you behind and pick Scott for the next supply run if that's the way you feel about me."

Alan knew John was teasing him and the threat to leave him on Earth next time was good natured but it felt a pang of sadness at the thought of the next trip.

"You'll have to take Scott next time anyway. I doubt there will be another trip up here before I leave for MIT."

"Sorry. I keep forgetting you will be off to college soon."

"I wish I could forget it" said Alan, glumly.

The journey back towards Earth's atmosphere was uneventful. Alan's moment of gloom didn't last long and he and John enjoyed a relaxed journey. Just before re-entry John warned the island base of their approach.

"Thunderbird Three to base. Preparing to re-enter the atmosphere. Estimated arrival in nineteen minutes."

"Base to Thunderbird Three. Opening round house aperture ready for your arrival. Bring her home safe, son."

John warned his passengers that the journey was about to get bumpy. His time with the Space Agency had taught him that re-entry could be a turbulent experience. He received two verbal and one groaned acknowledgement.

John pointed the rocket towards the Earth and increased the power to the primary and radial thrusters in order to punch through the atmosphere.

The vibrations tremored through their seats and the g-force exerted on their bodies started to increase. John held her steady and maintained their homeward course. The vibrations became more violent and a look of concern crossed John's face. Then a red warning light on the control console lit up and the rocket began to spin. The look of concern turned to one of fear.

One of the three radial thrusters had failed and the imbalance of forces was causing he rocket to spiral on it's decent. John frantically ran through the ignition sequence in the hope of bringing the thruster back online but it stayed stubbornly dead. He increased the power to the remaining thrusters but this only exacerbated the spin. The centrifugal forces coupled with the g-force generated by re-entry was putting a strain on the bodies of the occupants of the space craft. The reading on the force meter was creeping higher and higher; eight-g, nine-g, ten-g...

"Ease off" Alan yelled, "you're over-compensating".

"But we've lost a thruster. We need the power to get through the atmosphere."

"The main thruster has enough power on its own. You need to stop the spin. Do what you do on the simulator."

John turned to Alan, his eyes wide. "I've never landed this simulation. I've got to let Dad know." He opened the communications link with Tracy Island. "Thunderbird Three to base. Something's wrong. I can't control it. Impact in sixteen minutes".

xoxoxox

Impact in sixteen minutes. The words sent a chill throughout the lounge on Tracy Island where everyone had gathered to watch the triumphant return of the rocket and her crew. Mrs Tracy stifled a sob. Jeff looked grave. He knew the lives of more than just those in the space craft were at stake.

"We need to evacuate the island immediately. Kyrano, you and mother need to leave now on the jet. Head towards New Zealand. Gordon, take Thunderbird Four; keep the island between you and the impact zone. Scott, you and I will head out on the motor boat."

Kyrano gently but firmly assisted Mrs Tracy to her feet and headed off towards the hanger. Gordon took the passenger lift that led to the hanger where Thunderbird Four was kept and that, hopefully, would one day hold her transporter, Thunderbird Two. Jeff and Scott disappeared at speed out of the patio doors, taking the path that led to the jetty and the family motor launch. As they boarded the boat they spied the jet departing.

"Thank goodness Kyrano has got your grandmother safely away. I don't know what we are going to be dealing with but I don't want her witnessing it."

Scott agreed with the sentiment.

At that moment the communicators of Jeff's and Scott's wrists flashed and Gordon's voice was heard. "I've got Thunderbird Four away from the coast. I'm staying to the north of the island until we get visuals or hear from John again."

"Very good Gordon. Stand by for further instructions."

The three Earth-bound Tracy men turned their faces to the sky, watching for the first glimpse of light that would signal the arrival of Thunderbird Three.

xoxoxox

Back on the fated rocket the spin had reached dizzying proportions. John kept running through the ignition sequence but the thruster stayed obstinately off line.

The force meter carried on it's unstoppable climb.

Twelve-g

Thirteen-g

Alan felt his vision getting fuzzy and colours appeared to grey out.

Fourteen-g

Fifteen-g

Now the tunnel vision was setting in. The periphery was growing dark as the blood was forced away from his brain and towards his feet despite the compression suit trying to counteract the effect. He wondered what would kill him first, the force on his body or the impact when they hit the Earth. It looked as thought the forces would win. He hoped he would lose consciousness soon.

Alan forced his head to the side, ignoring the stab of pain in his straining muscles, to take a last look at his brother. He watched as John lost his grip on consciousness and his hand slipped from the controls.

There had been no sound from the rear passenger cabin but Alan couldn't tell if this meant Brains and Virgil were also unconscious or just unable to speak as the forces ravaged their bodies.

Alan realised that he was the only one with any power to effect change on their situation and with that realisation came a moment of clarity. As the tunnel vision narrowed to a pinprick he forced his hand toward the button that would transfer primary control to the co-pilot's chair. He then shut down power to the radial thrusters and ignited the fine directional jets to try and counteract the spin.

The forces were still crushing but the field of vision was slowly increasing. Alan realised that the spin was reducing speed as the jets acted against the rocket's current motion. He feathered the jets and brought the rocket back into a stable flight path. He rocked his feet trying to help his struggling circulation system. The g-force might have reduced but his limbs still felt like lead. He looked sideways; John was still unconscious.

"Virgil? Brains? Is everyone okay back there?"

The radio link with the crew compartment stayed silent. Alan hoped that they too were unconscious like John and that there wasn't a more sinister reason for their silence. He realised he was effectively on his own.

Alan also realised that John was partly right. While the main thruster would be enough to get them through the atmosphere the radial thrusters would be needed to effect any sort of controlled landing. At the moment the best he could hope for was to minimise the impact and ditch the rocket in the sea. If they were lucky he might be able to arrest their descent enough that they wouldn't completely disintegrate on impact. The chances of success, or even survival, were slim. That wasn't going to stop him trying though. With grim determination he continued their course towards the South Pacific.

xoxoxox

The watchers from their craft in the waters around the island craned their necks upwards, each staining to catch the first glimpse of the returning rocket. They didn't have long to wait before a bright speck appeared that grew steadily larger.

"Come on John" Jeff muttered. "You can do this. Get her under control."

The rocket continued it's seemingly unstoppable descent. Thunderbird Three was out of range of the watch communicators and so the observers were unable to make contact. All they could go on was their own observations. There were unable to see much but the pattern of light and shade suggested that Thunderbird Three was still nose down to the Earth and approaching fast.

The three men braced themselves to deal with the inevitable salvage operation.

xoxoxox

With Thunderbird Three now in level flight Alan felt calmer. The dizzying sensations caused by her spin had passed and he felt more in control of his own body. Unfortunately his control over the space craft was still limited in her crippled state.

His passengers remained silent.

Alan looked over the flight deck and gently ran his hands over the controls. She really was an amazing craft. He felt a pang of regret that his first time at flying her would also be his last. He corrected her course gently with the fine directional jets and marvelled at how responsive she was.

The reading on the altimeter was dropping like a stone. The analogy did not give him any comfort. Tracy Island was now clearly displayed below him.

Alan thought back to his few trails he had taken in the simulator under John's instruction and racked his brains for anything that could help in this seemingly hopeless situation.

A flash of inspiration hit him. He knew it was a long shot but he wondered if he could use the ever increasing air pressure to his advantage. He initiated a cleaning cycle that would force the air through the radial thruster system. If the thruster had failed due to space debris he might be able to clear the system and reset it.

With the cleaning cycle completed he started the ignition sequence, just has he had observed John try so many times up in space. He held his breath as he pressed the final button.

With a juddering roar the radial thrusters burst in to life. All three of them. The lights on the control panel stayed reassuringly green.

Tracy Island was now filling his view and Alan wondered if it was too little too late. He manipulated the controls more by instinct than design and tried to force the nose of the great rocket skywards, or at least away from a collision course with his island home. The field of view from the flight deck gradually changed as Thunderbird Three slowly changed orientation. It was a testament to Brains' engineering that the rocket obeyed the commands that Alan was sending into her systems.

Only when the rocket was vertical did Alan breath a small sign of relief. He manipulated the balance of forces and slowed the descent until the rocket was effectively hovering over the island. He knew that his problems weren't over yet though. The ground was still a long way down and a wrong move would spell the end for all on board and anyone in the impact zone.

He made a silent prayer before reducing power so that the rocket slid backwards towards the island. Sensors on the flight deck showed that he was lined up with the round house. Alan's knuckles were white as he gripped the controls, making the tiny adjustments needed to bring them in to land. At his command the rocket descended into the heart of the mountain. The reading on the altimeter slid slowly downwards. Only once the reading reached zero and they were safely on the ground did Alan let out the breath that he hadn't even realised he had been holding.

xoxoxox

Jeff and Scott were the first on the scene. The motor boat had most flexibility over where it could be moored and they were able to land close to one of the entrances to Thunderbird Three's hanger. They had watched with bated breath as Thunderbird Three had descended back into her launch bay then raced to the shore once the risk of explosion had passed.

As they entered the launch bay Jeff tried to raise John via his watch. The call went unanswered and the two men exchanged a concerned look. Jeff moved on to calling Virgil. This time the call connected but instead of Virgil's face appearing on the screen Alan appeared upside down on the tiny monitor.

"Alan? What's going on? Where are John and Virgil?"

"John's still on the flight deck. He lost consciousness when we went into a spin and is still out cold. I'm just checking on Brains and Virgil. Brains is out cold too." The field of view being transmitted to Jeff shifted slightly and they lost sight of Alan, his voice still came over the comms link though. "It's okay Virg, don't try and move….Sorry Dad, Virgil's just coming round and I want to check him over."

The transmission cut out.

Jeff looked grave. The implications of three out of the four crew being unconscious was a sobering thought.

Jeff and Scott rode the lift straight up to the passenger deck. Inside they discovered Brains and Virgil still harnessed into the crew seats. Alan was crouched by the side of his older brother. He had already affixed a neck brace and the space ship's first aid kit was open at his side. He seemed oblivious to their arrival and had his full attention focussed on the task in hand.

Jeff continued through to the main flight deck, leaving Scott with Alan.

Scott put a reassuring hand on his youngest brother's shoulder. Alan jumped at the unexpected touch. The sudden movement jarred his already strained muscles and he let out an involuntary hiss of pain.

"Sit down Alan" he said gently. "Father and I can take if from here. You've done great, kid"

Alan mutely allowed himself to assisted to the floor. As the wave of adrenaline left his body he started shaking. Scott grabbed a thermal blanket out of the first aid box and draped it around Alan's shoulders, the last thing he wanted was Alan going in to shock.

"Scott calling Gordon." Scott spoke quietly and calmly into his transmitter so as not to agitate his brothers. "We're going to need some help in here. I need you to bring some stretchers with you. Can you also contact Kyrano? It's safe for him and Grandma to come back. We could also use his help. I want to get everyone from here checked over in the infirmary and we might need some help pushing gurneys."

Scott turned his attentions back to the men that for now were his patients. He knew there was no point going through to the flight deck, his father would be assessing the situation with John and would call for him if he needed assistance. There were no visible injuries but Brains was still unconscious and Virgil, while awake, was struggling to focus on his surroundings. Scott hoped that everyone would wake up soon.

In the end the gurneys were not needed. The simple action of laying Brains and John on the floor and placing them in the recovery position while waiting for Gordon to arrive with the stretchers was enough to restore consciousness to the final two space travellers. Virgil too felt steadier after a period of time laying prone so that the blood could return to his head more easily. Scott still insisted on everyone having a check up in the infirmary but he was relieved that everyone was able to make it there under his own steam. Thankfully it looked like the strain of the g-forces had left no permanent effects on their bodies. The worst casualty of the trip was Alan; in remaining conscious and fighting for control of the craft he has strained several muscles. Everyone counted their blessings.

xoxoxox

The inevitable debrief took place in the lounge. With the exception of Kyrano and Mrs Tracy everyone was present as the trip and its aftermath had involved more than just those who had taken the journey into space.

Jeff held court from his customary position behind his desk. He listened intently as each phase of the mission to Thunderbird Five was recounted by John, only breaking his silence to ask the occasional question. Most of what had happened was well known to those listening as they had either experienced it or followed events via the radio.

As the narrative reached the return journey John stumbled into silence. Jeff's piercing gaze turned to Alan who continued the story. Alan kept his own focus on the corner of his father's desk. Six sets of eyes were on him as this part of the tale was a mystery to all involved and he shifted uncomfortably under their combined attentions. He felt almost as relieved to recount the moment that Thunderbird Three had touched down in her launch bay as he had when experiencing it first time around.

"Alan. John." Each of his sons received the full weight of his attention. "I will not tolerate deception. You have both..."

"Now steady on Father" Scott interrupted, jumping to to his feet.

The gaze swung round to his eldest son. "Sit down Scott, this does not concern you."

Scott felt an unstoppable rage building in him. He had remained calm while events had unfolded but now that the danger had passed he allowed his emotions to escape like a dam being drained to release the pressure.

"That's where you are wrong. This concerns all of us. I nearly lost three brothers and a good friend today. If it hadn't been for this deception as you call it, Alan wouldn't have been on the flight deck, he wouldn't have had the skills to pilot Thunderbird Three and we wouldn't be having this debrief. We would still be out there picking up the pieces. That's if any of us had survived having a nuclear powered space rocket crash land on the island. You have this grand vision for International Rescue but it isn't going to work if you don't trust us. You won't be able to micro-manage every little action once we are operational. You should be proud of what Alan managed to pull off. It's because of him we still have a home and a family. Instead you look like you are going to send him to his room without any supper. Alan isn't a little kid any more. None of us are."

Jeff, normally so upright, slumped in his chair. He appeared to age ten years before their eyes.

"You're right," he said quietly. "I shouldn't be punishing you, I should be apologising. I've been so wrapped up in International Rescue that I've been ignoring her greatest asset; her people. You have been showing levels of teamwork and empathy that I have not been capable of. You, all of you, deserve my trust. Scott, when you first got your commission in the Air Force do you remember the advice I gave you?"

Scott shook his head in confusion.

"I told you that the most respected officers were those that listened to those under their command. Those that appreciated the talents of their subordinates and weren't afraid to change their decision in the light of new evidence. I urged you not to be arrogant; sticking by your convictions is one thing but blindly enforcing orders because you don't want to admit you are wrong is what marks out a bad officer from a good one. I have been guilty of not following my own advice. A bad officer does not deserve the respect of his men. I hope you will give me the chance to earn your respect back but I would also understand if each and every one of you wanted to walk away now and return to the careers you had before I started this venture. I don't want to make a decision now. I need you each to take some time to think about this. Do you want to be part of International Rescue and do you trust me to lead you?" Jeff now turned his attention to his youngest son. "That includes you, Alan. I would fully support your decision if you wanted to spend some time away from here and take up your studies at MIT but your actions today have shown that you would be an asset to International Rescue. I have never before encountered an astronaut who could pilot on intuition. Your skill with a space rocket seems to match your skills with a car. I am proud to call you my son."

xoxoxox

Alan stood in his room surveying the half filled boxes and suitcases which still littered the floor. He turned at the sound of the now familiar knock.

"Come in" he called out.

John entered but for once he wasn't alone; Scott, Virgil and Gordon followed him into the room and perched on whatever bare surfaces they could find.

"This looks like a deputation. Should I feel honoured or worried?"

Scott took the lead "It's nothing to worry about. We just want you to know that whatever decision you make we will support you. We've all had our chance to explore our own interests and I'll understand if you want the same. I can't deny thought that it would be handy to have another astronaut on the team and you're not to bad with a plane either".

"So you're all staying?"

Gordon nodded. "I've already resigned my commission with WASP and Scott's the same. We could probable pull a few strings and get back in but in truth I'm happy to be here. Thunderbird Four is like nothing else I've ever encountered. I can't wait to put her through her paces properly."

"What about you John? You've been in the firing line almost as much as me."

"To tell the truth I was finding the Space Agency stifling. There was so much bureaucracy that I struggled to get any meaningful work done. Being able to help design Thunderbird Five has let me really test the limits of what can be achieved and Brains is a genius. I can't wait to get back up there and get the designs translated into reality...as long as I can survive the journey" he muttered darkly. He let out an involuntary shiver before continuing "I think I'll be putting in a bit more time on the simulators before I take Thunderbird Three up again. Brains has already come up with a raft of new features. For a start he has found a way to boost the watch transmitters from the island so they can communicate over longer distances and allow everyone, no matter where they are, to stay in touch with the craft." Alan noted that John had reverted to the familiar excited tone he adopted when talking about his favourite topics of space and communications.

"Scott? Virgil?" Alan turned to his two remaining siblings.

They nodded. "I believe in what Father is doing. I think the world will be a better place if we can pull this off" Scott explained simply. "But it doesn't matter what out decisions are. Or the reasons behind them. We want you to know that we will support you, whatever you decide to do."

The four brothers looked at Alan expectantly.

"Well I've already made my decision and nothing you can say will change my mind."

"Do you want some moral support when you go and tell Dad?" Virgil had stayed silent until this point but that one question showed he was just as willing to support his youngest brother as any of the others.

"No. I've got something I want to do first before I go and see him. Virg, can I borrow your tool kit? Just the little one you keep in your room."

"How do you know what tools are in my room?"

"Um, I might have borrowed them occasionally, when you weren't around."

"Some things never change. You're lucky I owe you for saving my life."

Virgil disappeared off to his room and returned a couple of minutes later with a compact tool box. He put it down on Alan's desk and returned to the space he had recently vacated on the bed.

Four sets of eyes surveyed Alan with open curiosity. The curiosity only intensified as he surveyed the room, chose a location, then drilled a hole and left a screw protruding from the wall. Alan then walked over to one of the half filled suitcases and withdrew a flat package. He carefully unwrapped the item and hung it from the screw.

Five beaming faces, a symbol of unity. Virgil's parting gift hanging in pride of place.

"I think this belongs here. With me. With us."


End file.
